


Surprise Attack

by litbeyondmeasure



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Board Games, Chaos, Competition, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Immortal Leon (Merlin), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Leon Being Done, Leon Has a Bath, Leon Just Wants Some Peace, M/M, Merlin is a Little Shit, Modern Era, Monopoly (Board Game), Mostly Fluff, Post-Canon, Sir Leon the Long Suffering, The Knights Being Confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29432055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litbeyondmeasure/pseuds/litbeyondmeasure
Summary: Leon was not expecting his bathtime to be crashed by his friends. Especially not for a night of board games. Is he prepared for the chaos about to ensue?(Spoiler: no.)(Written for Day 7 of Camelove 2021: Free Day)
Relationships: Elyan & Lancelot (Merlin), Elyan & Leon (Merlin), Gwaine & Lancelot (Merlin), Gwaine & Leon (Merlin), Lancelot & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Lancelot & Merlin (Merlin), Leon & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Leon & Bath, Leon & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 65
Collections: Camelove 2021





	Surprise Attack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saltedkiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saltedkiss/gifts).



The bath bomb hadn’t even fully dissolved when Leon heard the key turn in the lock of the front door and he instinctively contemplated sliding down to hide in the water before thinking it was probably best if he didn’t ingest the sorcery that seemed to be in the vibrant bath bombs he was fond of. Besides, his hair would give him away immediately. All he’d wanted was to spend the evening quietly in his bathtub but, no, a scheduled quiet day was being interrupted for the second time in the space of a month and he was _not_ happy. If it was just Merlin – the only one with a key – popping over to drop off a book he thought Leon would enjoy then, fair enough, that Leon could deal with.  


But, judging by the ruckus in the hallway, it seemed that the whole Resurrected cohort had invited themselves over.  


Leon was about to wish that he’d locked the door and then hastily stopped that thought in its tracks when he recalled where wishing had got him last time. At least he’d closed it. Perhaps if he pretended that he wasn’t in then they would all eventually get bored of waiting around and leave him alone…  


Trying to ignore the calls of his name, he reached out for what was left of his bath bomb, getting glitter between his fingers as it started to fizz in his hands. The overpowering scent of lemon tickled his nose and he sneezed very loudly and then swore very quietly. That was his cover blown. Awaiting his impending doom, Leon leaned against the curve of the bathtub and closed his eyes after ensuring that the bubbles were arranged in a dignified manner.  


‘Leon?’ There was a respectful knock at the door. ‘Is it okay for me to come in?’  


It was only Merlin, and Merlin had seen him in the bathtub dozens of times since moving back to Bath. ‘Yes, just don’t bring the whole hunting party with you.’  


Quietly, Merlin slipped through the door and closed it behind him, leaning against it. ‘Sorry about this. I was coming to drop off that book you wanted the other week and everyone was round at ours and decided to make it a group trip. And then in the chaos I forgot the book.’  


‘It’s okay, Merlin. How did you know I was in here, and not out?’  


‘I may or may not have checked with magic. Anyway, they’ve got it into their heads that we can have a games night, but I can always say that you’re not here and we can do it another night with your permission this time.’ Merlin’s eyebrows raised as he was hit by an alternative. ‘Or I could knock them all out.’  


Laughing, Leon shook his head. ‘Thanks for the offer, but it’ll probably be less hassle to just do the games night. Anyway, how would you explain coming in here?’  


Merlin shrugged. ‘Call of nature, I don’t know. They’re focused on finding all of your boardgames, they won’t notice that I’m even in here—’  


‘Merlin, hurry up with the bathroom, I need to use it, you’re never usually this long at home!’  


Both occupants closed their eyes in unison at the insistent rapping at the door, taking a moment to collect themselves.  


Making an executive decision, Merlin pulled the door ajar and pulled Arthur towards him by his shirt, kissing him softly on the mouth. ‘Clotpole. You’re going to have to wait, because Leon is currently having a bath. If you’re that desperate then take the key and see if you can run as fast as you could in Camelot and use the bathroom at home. If you do, pick up the book on the kitchen table. Or you can hold on for twenty minutes and try and exert some control over the others. But I don’t think Leon wants his king or knights seeing him in the vulnerable state of the bathtub.’  


‘You’re in there.’  


‘Well you never took the opportunity to grant me a knighthood, so I’m the exception to the nudity rule.’  


Arthur fixed him with a look. ‘You could barely hold a sword—’  


‘Can you two please not have this argument in the doorway of my bathroom?’ Leon interrupted, sadly watching the bath bomb become absorbed by the water. ‘You’re letting in a draught.’  


Merlin glanced over his shoulder and dipped his head. ‘Yeah, we’ll leave you be. We can fuck off to ours if you’d like?’  


Leon shook his head. ‘It makes more sense to stay here rather than shift everybody back to yours. And I don’t want to go outside now that I’ve had my bath. You know where everything is, feel free to make some drinks while I finish up.’  


As Merlin gave him a smile and escorted Arthur to the kitchen, Leon stretched out in the bathtub. A games night didn’t sound so bad; most of the ones he’d picked up in Waterstones over the years still remained in their cellophane and it gave him the perfect opportunity to see them engaged with at maximum chaos. The games at the tavern in Camelot had always been entertaining to watch, particularly when Merlin had always had a habit of absolutely wiping the floor with Arthur – even if he had since confessed that it was magic – but the pubs these days were often rowdy in a rather intimidating manner, and Leon was too tired and too old to frequent establishments like that. He and Merlin had always preferred cafés tucked away in concealed streets. There was a boardgame café down Gay Street, right beside the Jane Austen Centre, that the two of them had often frequented in the months since Leon had returned. Leon hoped that the games night being in a group setting would mean that Merlin wouldn’t completely destroy him like he had done many a time at the café – without magic, at that, too.  


Extracting himself from the bathtub, Leon wrapped a towel around his waist and stood thinking. He could hear his friends laughing in the main room and couldn’t help a smile shadow his mouth. As irritated as he had been by the interruption, he was glad that he and Merlin both had the promise of constant company. Nobody in the flat had had it easy over the past thousand and a half years and if boardgames helped them attain some semblance of happiness then Leon was more than prepared to get involved.  


He quickly dried himself off and changed into pyjamas, hands buried deep in his pockets as he loped into the main room. There was a stack of boxes on the coffee table and everyone had some sort of drink in their hand. Merlin was sat on Arthur’s lap, his legs thrown over one arm of the armchair they were sharing, and squashed on the sofa were Gwaine, Elyan and Lancelot. Leon, in his own home, had been left with no seat. That all changed when Arthur made the crucial error of sliding out from beneath Merlin to dart into the bathroom. Seizing the opportunity before it was too late, Leon pushed the warlock’s feet along a bit to perch on one arm, surveying the room.  


‘Hello, people I didn’t invite to my home.’  


The trio on the sofa waved merrily at him.  


Laughing with a shake of his head, Leon responded to Merlin’s soft kick on his back. ‘I made you a hot chocolate. I know you like one after a bath. It’s in the kitchen, though I can’t guarantee that Gwaine didn’t add rum to it. He says he didn’t, but Lancelot swears that he heard something go in it. Elyan is saying nothing.’  


Risking his seat, Leon took his drink from the kitchen and warily sipped it as he returned to the armchair. ‘Yeah, this has definitely got rum in it.’  


‘Gwaine!’  


Gwaine shrugged. ‘It wasn’t me that put it in. It was Elyan.’  


‘Everyone else was having some,’ Elyan reasoned. ‘And if it was in Leon’s cupboard then I assumed that he liked it.’  


‘I do,’ confirmed Leon, taking another sip. ‘I’ve never tried it in hot chocolate before, though, thank you for the new combination. What are we thinking of starting with?’  


Lancelot cleared his throat. ‘Arthur seems particularly taken with the concept of _Monopoly_.’  


Leon turned towards Merlin with an incredulous look. ‘Did you encourage this?’  


Merlin took several swigs of his drink, suppressing a hiccup. ‘You know what he’s like when he sets his heart on something. I didn’t _dis_ courage it.’  


Leon held up his hands. ‘I’m not the one who has to go home with him after tonight. Your funeral.’  


‘Merlin was wanting to do some literature thing, but I said that you two would have an unfair advantage, having been able to read all the literature featured,’ Lancelot said. ‘So _Monopoly_ is surely going to be fairer?’  


‘It’s going to be absolute carnage but you’ve interrupted my plans anyway,’ Leon murmured into his mug.  


Arthur returned, saw that Leon had seated himself on the armchair, and grabbed a cushion to sit his ground by the coffee table, his chin aligned with the surface. ‘Have we decided?’  


‘Nobody has had a better idea than _Monopoly_ ,’ said Gwaine, draining his drink and going to make another. ‘So it looks like that’s what we’re doing.’  


Swallowing the second sense of impending doom that evening, Leon handed his drink to Merlin, granting him custody of it for the time being, and cleared the coffee table of the stack of boxes to lay out the chosen game. This one had been opened; he and Merlin had attempted it six months ago and quickly abandoned it when the game had gone on for over two hours. Leon wasn’t quite sure if the game would be quicker or slower with more people, but he could definitely guarantee that it would be significantly more chaotic. And this was a game that Arthur really would not want to lose to two former nobles and three former commoners. At least _Monopoly_ meant that Merlin wasn't going to line up five espressos at eleven at night, down them all one after the other, and then proceed to take out all of Leon's battleships. He had had enough of that happening. And at least this game was not in public, either. He did not want any tables that did not belong to him being flipped.  


Assigning pieces to each player, Leon then began to hand out the money, pushing his drying hair from his face. With a quick glance towards Merlin to check, he made himself the banker and started to explain the rules as the others followed Arthur's suit and sat around the coffee table. He finished explaining and saw that Gwaine was trying to decipher the instructions booklet upside down, Elyan was trying to explain everything again to Lancelot and skipping most of the major details, and Arthur had clearly tuned out and was making the cat and the Scottie dog tokens fight each other. Merlin was on his third drink. Leon wanted to jump out the window.  


He instead took the tokens back from Arthur and turned his back to the window, signalling for Merlin to hand him his drink. Draining half, he exhaled sharply. ‘Right. Let me go over it again. Merlin, come here, help me demonstrate.’ Receiving his drink and Merlin, he picked up the dice with his other hand. 'I'm the banker, so I roll first. Three. Okay, now Merlin has a go. And he's got five, which is obviously higher, so he goes first.' Leon bit back a laugh. 'Merlin moves and lands on the income tax square, which means he has to pay the bank two hundred. Now that he's done that—' Leon quirked an eyebrow and waited for the money to be handed to him before continuing. '—I roll again and get six so I land on The Angel. Now, I want to buy this land, which is going to cost me one hundred, which I pay to the bank. Got it so far?'  


'Yeah, but that stuff is pretty basic, Leon,' Gwaine answered.  


'Then here is where it gets complicated.' Leon tucked his hair behind his ear. 'Let's say that Merlin now rolls a two. He lands on my land – and it's okay that both of us are on the same square, one person won't get turfed out – and has to pay me six, because that is the rent for The Angel when I don't have the other two light blue land areas. I will probably try to get all three during the course of the game, which means that rent for The Angel will jump up to twelve and I can start buying houses and hotels to put on the land to increase rent that Merlin has to pay when he passes. It says how much a house or hotel will cost on the land card that I have here. So the aim is to buy up as much land and property as you can to squeeze everything from the other players. Quite a brutal game, if I'm honest. Does that make sense?'  


There was a unanimous nod as Leon pushed back his and Merlin's tokens to the start. Prompted by the action, Merlin let out a quiet laugh. 'It's going to be pretty embarrassing for you if you can only get ahead of me in a demonstration, Leon.'  


Leon fixed him with a suspicious look. 'We'll see. You may yet be beaten by me.'  


'That'll be the day.'  


Shaking his head, Leon rolled the dice and passed them around the table, making a mental note of the figures. Gwaine had his tongue sticking out in concentration, Lancelot’s chin was resting on the edge of the table in anticipation, and Elyan was glancing at the rulebook again. Merlin had fallen against Arthur, who was now rolling the dice, and was dangerously close to sleep. Leon took the opportunity of Arthur squinting at the dots for some self-sabotage and made a very strong coffee, carefully handing it to the warlock. He gave Leon a smile of thanks and set down his glass – once again empty – behind him and Arthur, who had finished rolling and nudged the dice towards Merlin.  


Merlin leaned further back to bury his face in Arthur's neck. 'Could you roll for me?'  


Sparing Merlin a soft smile, Arthur rolled the dice and looked at Leon for confirmation, the latter having settled back on the floor. 'Yeah, you got the highest, Arthur, so you move.'  


Arthur moved along nine spaces, landing on Pentonville Road, and promptly picked up three houses and set them down on the space. Finished, he looked expectantly at Merlin, who was looking at him in amazement. Leon wanted to bang his head against the wall. He'd explained the rules to them _twice_ , had demonstrated it with Merlin, and the others were _still_ confused. He knew they should have played _Snakes and Ladders_. Despairing, he looked helplessly towards Merlin, who had since straightened and was looking as Arthur in confusion as he tried to understand his boyfriend's thought process.  


'Yeah, Arthur, you can't do that,' he finally said, taking a sip of coffee and burning his mouth.  


'But I'm the king.'  


Merlin rubbed his forehead. 'Arthur, this isn't a roleplaying game. We're all equal here and you can't just demand properties without paying for them. Or take all of the lands.'  


'But it's my land.' Arthur frowned. 'All of it.'  


'No, no. First off, this is based in London, which was not part of Camelot back when we were around. Secondly, you have to act like you did all those times you pretended to not be Arthur Pendragon—'  


'Which was all of twice,' Arthur interrupted.  


'Fine, yes, but you have to follow the rules. If you want to buy the land then you have to pay Leon. And you can't put any properties on it until you've got all of the light blue. Yeah?'  


Arthur nodded. 'I'd like to buy—' He squinted at the text on the board. '—Pentonville Road, please, Leon.'  


Trying to express his gratitude towards Merlin through his eyes, Leon nodded. 'That's one hundred and twenty then, Arthur.' Receiving the transaction, he slipped the notes into the bank piles. 'Right, your turn, Merlin.'

* * *

'I'd like to put a hotel on Oxford Street, banker,' Merlin informed the group, returning from the kitchen with his fourth coffee.  


Leon was seriously worried about how much blood was actually running through his veins, and how much of it was caffeine and alcohol. Gwaine, who had been wiped out long ago, was making his way through the cooling pizza that they'd ordered a good two hours ago and glanced at Leon. Inviting themselves over had seemed like a good idea at the time but, without the distraction of being involved in the game, he was quickly becoming aware that the older knight was on the verge of falling asleep. Taking a slice with him, he darted into the kitchen and poured out water from the freshly boiled kettle into a mug of instant coffee, shouting out 'Leon, milk?' into the tension. Receiving a positive reply, Gwaine fumbled with the fridge – initially trying to open it on the wrong side – to retrieve the milk. He unscrewed the top and tilted his hand, not realising how much he'd added until he saw it overflowing. Cursing himself for obscuring his vision with the pizza slice in his mouth, Gwaine wedged the crust between his teeth and pulled at the kitchen roll a little too enthusiastically, leaving a trail of it down the kitchen cupboards and across the floor.  


Still, he managed to mop up the milky mess he’d made, return the offending liquid to the fridge, and reverse the overenthusiastic kitchen roll manoeuvre all before Leon noticed, being absorbed in having to pay two hundred at Marlborough Station. Gwaine finished the pizza slice and handed the coffee to Leon as he resumed his place to watch the consequences of Merlin’s action unfold.  


Elyan had his eyes closed in frantic hope as he held the dice in his hand. The words he was whispering didn’t quite form coherent sentences, but he released the dice and counted up the dots, swearing violently.  


‘You little shit, Merlin,’ he said, moving eleven spaces from Free Parking to Oxford Street, where Merlin had just exchanged a hotel for his four houses.  


‘That’ll be one thousand, two hundred and seventy-five, thank you, Elyan,’ Merlin brightly said.  


‘You think I have that kind of money?’  


‘You’d better, or you’re going bankrupt.’  


Elyan raised his hands in defeat. ‘Then I’m bankrupt. I can’t pay that. I’m five short, would you believe it. But I’d just like to make it known that this game is bullshit.’  


Lancelot stirred from the sofa to nod blearily in agreement. ‘And Merlin is a bastard.’  


‘Merlin is always a bastard when it comes to games if he’s had more than three coffees,’ Leon said, raising his own. ‘And, yes, I take full responsibility for providing him with the first one. I knew I’d be shooting myself in the foot by doing that, but I wasn’t expecting you all to do so badly.’  


‘We have had very little experience with board games such as these,’ defended Gwaine. ‘Merlin never thought about posting one to Avalon.’  


‘I don’t think their postal service is very good,’ Merlin retorted, screwing up his nose. ‘Besides, when it comes to Freya, I always end up giving her the wrong thing. You’d all have ended up with _Buckaroo_ or something, and that would have lost its appeal very quickly.’  


‘I think this has lost its appeal very quickly,’ grumbled Arthur, who was waiting for Leon to deal with Elyan’s properties before rolling.  


‘It’s been four hours,’ said Leon and Merlin together.  


‘When you’ve been stuck on an island for one and a half thousand years, four hours flies by,’ quipped Arthur.  


Gently touching Merlin’s arm in solidarity – after all, they had also both been stuck on an island for one and a half thousand years, and their struggles were just as valid as Arthur’s – Leon sorted out Elyan’s affairs and nodded towards Arthur. Merlin had lapsed into silence and Leon desperately wanted to poke Arthur with something sharp to let him know that Merlin was beginning to spiral. But Arthur had been away too long to recognise the signs. Leon instead poked Merlin and fixed his eyes on him, wordlessly reassuring him. Merlin poked him back and attempted a smile, but Leon had a strong suspicion that he would not be smiling when he went home with Arthur. It wasn’t Arthur’s fault, of course; Leon was convinced that Merlin had concealed the struggles that he’d faced over the centuries from Arthur. Arthur had no idea about the nights where Merlin had sat on the sofa with Leon, tears in his beard and scars on his ancient skin: the nights where Leon could feel the self-hatred radiating from the warlock, the violent guilt at being weak and needing Leon to support him, never supporting Leon in return.  


Leon had told him many times that it wasn’t true. Leon hadn’t needed much support – or, more accurately, he had, but had never recognised it until recently – and he had never had the whole weight of Camelot resting on him. It was no surprise that Merlin had completely crumbled when Camelot fell. They had lived together, in the initial aftermath, for a few short centuries. Merlin had seemed to be becoming surer of himself and Leon had been itching to explore the new world that had opened up to him. They’d agreed a date to next meet, in the new town of Bristol, but Merlin had never showed. Leon had spent the whole afternoon in Bath trying to find him, and had finally stumbled across him bleeding by the abbey. They’d unwittingly set the date for the anniversary of Camlann. He’d stayed with him for five years after that.  


Merlin had never really roamed far from Bath, being reluctant to leave Arthur, and on the rare occasions when he travelled to Leon, he’d never stayed long. Leon had returned to Bath more than he would have wanted to, always feeling like he was trapped by the past, but he hadn’t wanted to abandon Merlin. As things had progressed, Merlin had gradually improved and Leon had returned less and less frequently as the scars on Merlin’s arms had faded more and more. Leon had confessed, in around 1300, that he had often contemplated doing the same thing before remembering that one of things he had been taught in training was that weapons were used for defence, not destruction. And if his first instinct wasn’t to completely destroy the enemy, then he was going to try his hardest to not destroy himself.  


There had been fewer fresh marks on Merlin’s skin after that.  


Leon wondered if Arthur had been able to piece together the history from Merlin’s forearms, but then Merlin seemed to wear long sleeves whenever he was with Arthur. The warlock had dropped by the week before in a hoodie, which he’d hastily taken off when exposed to the heat in Leon’s flat, and there had been no fresh wounds.  


Blinking, Leon gradually became aware of his present surroundings again and stood, softly touching Merlin’s shoulder and murmuring about a book loan. Arthur was occupied with trying to manipulate the dice in his hand so that he avoided Merlin’s properties and, leaving instructions with Gwaine to temporarily take charge of the bank, Leon led the warlock to his bedroom.  


‘Are you okay?’  


Merlin nodded, passing his hand over his eyes. ‘Yeah. Are you? I know that things haven’t been easy for you. And I know part of it is down to me,’ he softly added.  


‘It’s not down to you. And I’m okay. I didn’t tell you, did I, that I’ve started speaking to someone professionally? I know it goes against my anonymity thing, but I think I needed it. Obviously I haven’t said that I’m an immortal being. I think it’s helping though.’  


The smile that Merlin gave him was genuine. ‘I’m glad. I hope it does help you, you deserve to be happy. And you know you can talk to me about anything.’  


‘I know. And so can you. I wanted to check—’ Leon nervously cleared his throat. ‘—that, you haven’t, you know…’  


Catching the meaning of the gesture towards his arms, Merlin frantically shook his head. ‘No, God, no. Not since 1944. And you know about that.’  


And Merlin knew about what had happened to Leon that year.  


Nodding his head, Leon moved towards the door. ‘We should go to Gay Street soon. We haven’t been there for ages. That way you can beat my ass without an audience.’  


The laugh that emerged from Merlin’s mouth put Leon more at ease and their hands knocked against each other’s as they passed through the doorway. When they returned to the coffee table, Arthur was hissing at the others as he pushed his token back a square to the Community Chest. Hearing Leon and Merlin arrive, four heads swivelled in their direction and Lancelot, with his eyes still closed, spoke first.  


‘Arthur landed on Bond Street and is trying to get out of paying rent.’  


‘And you had the nerve to call _me_ a little shit?’ Merlin incredulously said, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.  


‘Elyan was the one to say that,’ defended Arthur.  


‘I heard you say it under your breath.’ Merlin resumed the position of leaning against Arthur. ‘Now, come on, lazy daisy, cough up. I believe that is one thousand and two hundred.’  


‘If you let me skip this rent then I’ll do the laundry for the next fortnight.’  


‘And have all my shirts shrink to half their size? I’ll pass, now cough up.’  


Arthur nudged Merlin with his shoulder. 'I can't cough up; I'm bankrupt. Which is not something I ever thought I'd say. Which means it's just you and Leon.'  


Merlin looked towards Leon. 'We've intruded for long enough and this could go on for an age. Should we save Arthur having to sulk as we circle this board over and over and just count up what we have?'  


It was a nice idea. Leon had been craving silence and his bed for the past hour. Going into his bedroom had weakened his resolve and he nodded wearily. 'Yeah, that sounds like a plan.'  


Not having to wallow in the pity of his defeat for as long as he thought he would, Arthur helped Merlin count out the various notes he had stacked by him. Elyan picked himself up to help out Leon as Lancelot refused to move his legs for Gwaine to sit down, and the flat was quiet for several glorious minutes. The figures blurred in front of Leon's eyes and he was grateful that Elyan was beside him and significantly more awake. He heard Merlin name a number as if from a distance and vaguely heard Elyan make a response. Then he was punched excitedly in the arm, jerking him back to the present.  


'Leon, you won!' Elyan cried, pulling him in for a hug.  


Stunned, Leon submitted to the knight's arms, gaze turning to a grinning Merlin in wonder. He watched them all depart blearily, making promises to drop by in the morning, and he sat in the same place for a further ten minutes, trying to process the fact that he'd won against Merlin for the first time in all his existence. Eventually, when the mournful calls from his bed became too loud to ignore, Leon rose from the floor and accidentally kicked the cushion that Arthur had been sat on.  


Beneath it were two notes, each worth five hundred, and Leon could feel the warmth that Merlin's magic always left on anything he touched. Glancing over their stacks, he smiled. If Merlin hadn't hidden them, it would have been a draw.  


And the knights had always hated a draw.  


Still smiling, Leon turned off the lights and crawled into bed, falling asleep immediately.

**Author's Note:**

> I said this would be fluff...and then there's a whole chunk of angst...
> 
> Anyway. I apologise if I've messed up with the portrayal of Monopoly; I tried my best to use Google and my memory for the rules, but there may have been some oversights. Thanks for giving it a read!


End file.
